The Presence of Love
by cathymalfoy
Summary: Did you ever wonder what Hermione was thinking when Ron left during their search for the Horcruxes? As she clearly doesn't have the emotional range of a teaspoon, it's no surprise she had a lot on her mind.


Hermione sobbed bitterly. Despite the fact that she was seventeen and considered herself somewhat mature, she had never had a broken heart before. It felt awful, simply awful. As a firm believer in fact and concrete ideas, she had never quite understood when Parvati Patil or some other girl spent all night in a frenzy ripping pink heart-shaped parchment to shreds, building a bonfire of what looked like photos and love letters next to the lake, or throwing sinister objects at a former beau from the Astronomy Tower. But now, she felt every ounce of betrayal, hurt, disappointment, and confusion. Every ounce of negativity that she used to be immune to seemed to invade her senses and take over her being.

Ron was gone. Knowing his stubbornness and temper, as well as the security measures they were taking, they probably wouldn't see each other until all that remained of her internal pain would be broken pieces. Her heart would be a frigid icebox by then. What remained would be a pathetic vestige of the once-vital organ wrongly labeled as the generator of compassion and understanding. All the same, she could feel the same about no other man.

She had never, and surely could never feel this way about anyone. It had always been like this. Even back in the age when love was more of a frivolous and irritating game than an abstract and indefinable, yet supreme force far beyond the control of mankind. Ron was honest. Ron was, or had been, the only thing that was always real to her. He had been her sole voice of comfort, the only one able to convince her to come out of her shell. Harry was a kind person, but she couldn't help admitting to herself that he would just be another Dean Thomas or Seamus Finnigan if he didn't have his fame. Perhaps he had learned to accept her and comfort her to some degree, but it was just too difficult to accept advice from a person who was barely able to cope with his own troubles.

Ron needed to come back. Yes. Ron _must_ come back. However, stating the obvious did not help her in the least. It felt hopeless. Ron had always been rash. He had never been the most reliable person in her life in a high stress situation. There was no way she could tell that his absence would only be temporary. The absolute uncertainty of her self-reassurance fueled her emerging contempt.

This was all Ron's fault. Yes, Harry had his strengths, and would probably be a brilliant Auror if he managed to stumble out of the war alive. True, she was incessantly mocked as the most capable witch of her year. But what did it matter? They needed each other. After seven years of friendship, they had come to rely on each other. Ron was not the best at magic, nor at logical reasoning, but without Ron's elements, the processes of logical reasoning and wand-work would be obsolete, if not physically and mentally destructive.

Ron completed the team. He had, above all the knowledge he possessed, a sense of optimism. And, when it was no longer a luxury, she realized how valuable it had been. Because of her thirst for hard fact and knowledge, Hermione tended to see the world as a sequence of plain concrete details. To her, hope and other intangible concepts were created so the plain world would look more fanciful, and often resulted in a fancifully distorted and idealized view of how things really were. Therefore, she had a habit of avoiding bringing up such concepts in her process of thought. Harry, on the other hand, had grown up before his time. Perhaps he too could have grown to be optimistic, but much had interfered with the development of this particular characteristic. Whenever he mentally conjured up his optimism and clung to it, the world almost never failed to let him down. Now, he no longer bothered to summon hopes and sanguinity anymore in the fear of being let down and betrayed.

They had begun their journey together. It was unfit for any one of them to back out, especially at this stage. Ron was a git. Now, as all these thoughts of hopelessness had run their course through her mind, her feelings directed to another aspect of the situation. Ron had no right to leave, and he knew that perfectly well. He left with no consideration at how we would fare without his help. He had been too thickheaded to even realize he was an important part of their mission. Didn't he understand that the free world was literally going to come to an end if he deserted? Ron had never been bright, but surely he realized the consequences! Or perhaps he did not. Perhaps, if Harry had found another compartment on the train seven years ago, Ron would have just turned out to be another dime-a-dozen mediocrity.

But deep down, she knew none of her proposals were true. Ron was anything but a mediocrity. And he was certainly not a git. He was noble, kind, unselfish, and all she yearned for in a best friend, boyfriend, and, perhaps, in a husband. He had qualities that she knew she could never have. He did not deserve her mental chastising. Her scolding would have no effect on him. They were simply her psychological self-defense to having her heart torn to shreds. She would feel no more agony if she did not care about Ron in the first place. She would not be tortured if her attachment to him was inexistent. Thoughts of him would not torment her every moment of every day if he were just another crush, another daydream, another brief fancy she knew she could never have in her wildest dreams.

However, she knew for sure that, unlike many of the teenage heartthrobs and studs that were continually swooned over and gossiped about, she _could_ have Ron. He had been right in her face for the past six years. He had visibly gone crimson with rage and disgust when she had chosen to attend a ball with another boy. There had to be more to them than just friendship. Her longing to be his (and _only_ his) could not become another emotional burden now that he chose to leave.

Through the years, they had spent weeks and weeks fighting over their faults and weaknesses. They had spent so much energy into disliking one another. But the incalculable amount of energy they had spent helping one another get through school, life, and the difficult process of maturation far surpassed any and every other aspect of their friendship in matters of importance. They loved each other. Hermione was sure she would die more than a little on the inside if Harry died in the heat of the battle or in some other way, like he had come frighteningly close to doing so many times. She knew she wouldn't be spending her days and nights weeping and pining for someone she had deeply loathed because he had chosen to depart without so much as a polite farewell.

Indeed. She continued to hold Ron's grievance against him, but now, her thoughts expressed her true feelings on this topic. She could not appreciate his absence, nor instantly grant him forgiveness for his bad decisions at the moment, but the sands of time were bound to wipe away her tears and shed light on this dark time of sorrow in due course. Meanwhile, it was proper for her to continue to love and care for both Ron and Harry just as she had before any of this had ever taken place.

Perhaps the forces of time were working more rapidly than she expected. Now that she examined the turn of events in retrospect, Ron had not done anything to lose her love or trust. He deserved her respect just as much as Harry, her parents, and any one person she had ever loved deserved it. Ron had simply submitted to human nature and made a mistake. Yes. That was the way to explain why he had walked out on them. He had proved himself mortal, with both likable and unpleasant qualities. She had indeed learned most of what would be vital to survival, just as so many philosophers had decided upon reflection, in kindergarten. Everybody makes mistakes…nobody's perfect…don't cry over spilled milk…say sorry…it is best to hold hands and stick together…

It was completely utterly rotten of Ron to do what he did, and he had innumerable faults. Still, at the end of the day, it didn't matter. His good qualities, though seemingly few in number, outweighed his bad ones. Ron would come to realize his mistake. It was no reason to worry. He would definitely come back. And she may not welcome him with open arms, but those arms refuse to stay crossed for eternity. She would embrace him sooner or later, for she loved him unconditionally. No matter how many terrible things he did, he would make it up to her. No matter how much of a prat he could be, there was no doubt that he was a blessing in her life.

She had always loved him, but had never realized how much and to what extent. People could point out every little thing wrong with him, down to the very last freckle, but she knew better. She would love him no matter what, and she didn't need a fact to prove it. Her reaction to this situation was proof enough. Ron had a heart of gold, and she could see it clearly in her mind's eye whenever she felt she wanted to take a look. The image would always be there, because she loved him with every fiber of her being, and he felt the same way. Of course, the presence of Ron wouldn't be necessary once he came back, but it gave her immense pleasure to know that things were bound to get better, and there was hope. All hope seemed to have fled the scene with the disappearance of Ron, but it had simply been lurking out of sight. Now, along with her heart, it was swelling and rising out of concealment. After all, with the existence of love, there has to be hope.


End file.
